


through mind's eye & camera lens

by artistotle



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: 1.6 k words of how beautiful Juno is, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Photographer, M/M, Some good ol photography and model au, i finally used that nureyev alias thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistotle/pseuds/artistotle
Summary: A washed up, grizzly, probably-needs-a-shower Private Investigator isn't really the best subject of a photoshoot.Sherwood Starr, famous Hyperion photographer, disagrees.Orthe model and photographer au no one asked for





	through mind's eye & camera lens

**Author's Note:**

> I love fanfic authors but let's be real we've heard of 'fox teeth & long legs' 1000x and now I want a fic about how beautiful juno is.  
> I am the change I wanna see in the world.

Sherwood Starr is a Mars based photographer who specializes in professional head shots of citizens and the more humane parts of the always moving, always changing, Hyperion city.

Juno Steel, private eye, lost a bet to his secretary.

_Click._

“Mr. Steel has anyone told you that you should take up modeling?”

Juno snorts from where he’s slumped over one of the modeling chairs placed around the studio. He glances off into the darker area of the studio, eyes settling on where the famous Hyperion photographer, Sherwood Starr is fiddling with his camera. He can’t believe he let Rita drag him down here for some ‘Faces of Hyperion’ shit she saw on a stream. He can’t believe he let himself walk in just because he was persuaded by a pretty smile with sharp teeth. The brightness of the lights and the white backdrop sheet surrounding him is almost blinding. That’s good, it helps him not focus on the lenses and bright, sharp eyes around him.

“Surprisingly not. And somehow I’m still here.” _Thanks again, Rita._

Starr chuckles lightly at Juno’s response, picking up the camera and adjusting it back onto its tripod. “Well, if you’re not signed onto an agency yet, I might just take you for myself.” He muses, zooming in the camera to catch the lovely reddish hue of Juno’s blush rush down his skin. _Click._ Breathtaking. In fact, the detective has been taking multiple things since he walked in through Starr’s door several hours ago. Not anything physical, unfortunately. Peter would be able to snatch that back in seconds. No, instead it’s small things, like Peter’s breath and Peter’s interest.

That’s bound to happen though, he assumes. With every beautiful planet is a beautiful person with a story to tell. There’s also a beautiful art piece waiting to be stolen, appointments to be made, and starships to catch. Too bad.

“You’re quite unlike any other subject I’ve had.” Starr states, tinkering with the camera settings. 

"Then you haven’t had enough subjects yet, Starr. There’s 15 million other washed up P.I.’s just like me, if you know where to look.”

“15 Million is a bit much, detective. I’m sure there’s only one Juno Steel.” Starr responds, flipping through the photos on the camera and glancing at Juno in his peripheral.

_Click._

“I’m sure you say that to all your ladies” Juno responds. Peter laughs again, no matter what mask Juno wishes to put on, even he can’t hide his nervous shuffle from the lens of Sherwood Starr’s camera.

“Tell me more about yourself then, detective! Highlight yourself from the many other faceless P. I’s of Hyperion city.” He taunts, waiting for the lady to take the bait.

“There’s not much to say.”

“Oh? Then I suppose you’ll be a mystery.” Peter wipes the lens of his camera and steps into the white blanketed space. “Unfortunately, Mr. Steel, I’m a storyteller, not a detective.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Starr. You’re a photographer.”

“Po-tate-o, po-tat-o” Peter waves it off with a flick of his hand and a smile, “I’m sure you have a story somewhere, maybe we’ll find it together, hm?” He steps into the detective’s personal space and rests a hand onto the seat where he’s sitting and leans down to get eyelevel with the detective.

Juno fidgets under the intensity of Peter’s stare, as if Starr were attempting to piece together who Juno was simply from a gaze. Then he lifts a hand to the scar across his nose. He could either tell Sherwood Starr some small, non-important tales, or he could watch Starr rip him to shreds and make a new story out of the pieces. Starr looks like he’d be okay with both.

“Alright.”

_Click._

For every story Juno tells, Peter almost can’t stop himself from getting closer and closer to the detective. _It’s for the photos_ , he tells himself, _you need to sell the persona until even you believe it_. But that doesn’t explain the animalistic need to brush his fingers over Juno’s skin, feeling every scar—every story for himself. Feeling the strength of Juno’s body under his fingers, and the beat of his heart and the—

Well. That’s perhaps for a later date.

Peter takes in the detective as Juno stumbles across stories of various pale scars against his skin. He’s beautiful. Juno Steel is a hunk of tough muscle developed by a hard training and an even harder life, --Peter can relate--with soft curves and tummy that come with the alcohol and bad habits. A hard, sulky expression with such warm eyes and a flash of blinding teeth when he sniggers at his own bad jokes. Even with the distance between them, Peter can feel the heat radiating off of Juno’s skin. Peter wants so deeply to feel Juno’s warmth for his own. His eyes ghost over the P. I’s ragged clothes, the first line of defense to such a dangerous lady. He wants to get rid of it immediately.

Peter is taken out of his stupor by Juno’s silence. When he looks up, the detective looks lost in thought. “Well. I thought I had more. Appears we’ve run out of story, Starr.”

Peter feels like a rug has been pulled from under him. It’s too soon to end. There’s so much more that Juno could say— _should_ say. There’s more story than that.

“What about under your shirt?”

Juno’s hands pause from where they were roaming around his skin for scars. He’s flushed. Peter’s tempted to lift the camera and capture the beauty of this moment. Instead he brings his hands off the camera to just barely brush over Juno’s skin. Light enough to feel the heat of Juno’s skin on his cold hands, but not enough to touch. He nearly traces the scar from Juno’s shoulder to where it disappears under Juno’s shirt. Peter’s seized with the same temptation again, the need to lift the shirt and shove his hands in and just _feel_ it all for himself.

He almost does, until Juno stops him by speaking up.

“If you wanted me undressed Starr, all you had to do was ask.”

Suddenly, Peter’s staring at a large expanse of tanned skin crisscrossed with pale marks. Each slice, each line so different, that Peter was sure that if he wasn’t so close to the detective’s skin himself, he would see a work of art. Hell, even at the dizzying proximity he is to the detective he’s sure he can’t differentiate Da Vinci’s magnum opus to the likes of Juno Steel’s skin.

Peter— _Starr?_ He’s unable to differentiate who wants what. For the first time in what feels like lightyears, he can’t pull himself apart from the persona. Instantly, he is hit with a thousand desires, Starr’s wishes for the perfect photo, Peter’s obsession with art, Starr’s interest in people, Peter’s fascination with _Juno_. Whoever it is, can’t stop himself from reaching out to trace a finger down the multitude of scars on Juno’s back.

“I thought we were more of a ‘you can see but you can’t touch’ deal here, Mr. Starr.” Juno bites, but Peter can feel Juno’s pleasant shudder under his fingers as he traces the soft skin and muscle. He pulls back reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right, Mr. Steel. I was just… _entranced_ , let’s say.” He whispers lightly, lingering for as long as he could before be returning his fingers to the camera. It’s a vast difference. The cold and hard metal on his skin. But, he does still have a job to do.

 _Click_.

Sherwood Star briefly forgets about Juno Steel. Such happens when you’re in the middle of conning your most recent model to get you an invitation to an extremely high-class art exhibit off planet.

Some things are unforgettable, however. Peter can still see the pale lines stitched across dark skin, the texture of soft skin and raised lines fading into rough scars in his mind’s eye. His mind’s eye is nothing compared to the photos he had specially printed before he left Mars, though. He pulls them out of his pocket again, staring at the beauty of Juno in a professional photo. When a lady manages to hold every little aspect of such a big city within him… it’s like a supernova in a photo.

There’s a lot that you can tell from a person just at a first glance, and a lot more you can tell through multiple. If you flipped through the photos in the correct order, you could see Juno slowly relaxing as the photoshoot continued. From the initial head shot of a P.I. who learned that perhaps you need to be a little harder than the world around you to survive—to whoever  _this_ is.

The last photo, the one Peter is holding is not the same one of the man who first walked through Sherwood Starr’s door.

No. This person is…softer.

Juno Steel is a lady who learned to do more than roll with the punches. He’s a lady who sees corruption and the needy and will do anything to stop it. Juno Steel is a lady who knows what loss feels like and wears it on him like a house arrest anklet. Something that keeps him steady. Something that hinders him from continuing, from discovering… from forgetting.

But… he’s so much more than that. He’s a lady whose heart has been broken too many times to believe that it’ll ever be whole. Juno Steel spits fire and deals with the fumes at the cost of his own happiness. Juno Steel doesn’t believe in love but wants it terribly. He pushes people away to forget but remembers deeply. He takes people’s lives into his own hands constantly.

He’s unforgettable. He’s worth everything Peter’s ever stolen and WILL ever steal. It’s simply ridiculous how much this lady can hold inside him. How much story there is behind every scrape, how Juno remembers it all with perfect clarity, as if it holds an important memory for him. Peter finds himself wanting to see the next layer, the next expression from Juno Steel more than he wants to see the skyline of another beautiful planet. He wants to learn more, he wants so badly to have this man trust him and rely every part of him on—

Then Peter realizes he’s almost torn the photo in half with the tightness of his grip.

He sighs. Maybe he could’ve gotten used to it. Instead of chasing another sunrise on another planet, chasing Juno Steel. Making him happy. Making his own story on his skin that fades by morning.

Maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should also mention that by ‘last photo’ I mean last APPROPRIATE photo… there was def some hanky panky but those pics are in a different pocket ;)
> 
> this is the first fic i've done in a LONG time so don't yell at me too much pls.
> 
> I'll probably go back and edit some glaring mistakes but I have to get this out of docs ASAP.


End file.
